Anti-hero prowls the City of Lights

By OLINE H. COGDILL
mcclatchy-tribune

Published: October 12, 2013;Last modified: October 12, 2013 05:00AM

Paris in 1929 was a heady time and place — a Jazz Age populated with American expatriates known as the Lost Generation. This slightly seedy bohemian atmosphere nurtured artists and writers who changed the way works of art would forever be viewed.

Laurie R. King perfectly captures this era as she explores the City of Lights’ avenues and alleys in the highly entertaining “The Bones of Paris.”

King excels at weaving real people into a private-eye novel, elevating the plot while delivering a clear-eyed look at this epoch. Figures such as Ernest Hemingway, Salvador Dali, the surrealist photographer Man Ray, Cole Porter and others give “The Bones of Paris” texture as King uses reality sparingly but effectively.

American Harris Stuyvesant, who left the U.S. Bureau of Investigation after a blowup with J. Edgar Hoover, barely ekes out a living in Europe. Perpetually broke, Harris would much rather spend his days drinking and nights sleeping with different women. His latest assignment seems tailor-made — prowl the bars, nightclubs and cafes to search for a 22-year-old Boston woman whose mother hasn’t heard from her in months.

Philippa Crosby has been supplementing her mother’s checks with bouts of modeling and acting. Unknown to her family, Harris had a brief fling with Philippa a year ago and is sure he’ll find her with another guy, drugged out in some remote bar.

His investigation leads to a fringe community full of violence and to the Theatre du Grand-Guignol, where actors indulge in graphic pain and naturalistic horror. But the carefully orchestrated acts at the Montmartre theater may not be mock demonstrations.

Along the way, Harris meets the denizens of the Lost Generation, as well as Sylvia Beach, the famous owner of Shakespeare and Company, the quirky bookstore that sometimes doubled as a meeting place and apartment for down-on-their-luck artists.